Newlyweds?
by bionic4ever
Summary: Jaime's first big assignment after amnesia, her chance to prove herself, but she and Steve must work together, keeping feelings out of it, to succeed...
1. Chapter 1

**Newlyweds?**

by bionic4ever

**Chapter One**

OSI Director's Office - 2/11 - 3:00am

Steve Austin practically growled at Oscar's secretary as he shuffled, half asleep, toward the inner office. "He'll be just a few minutes? He isn't here? Oscar sends a posse of goons to get me out of bed - rudely, I might add - in the middle of the night, and he doesn't have the decency to be here?"

"Oh, quit your whining, Austin," said a cheerful, wide-awake voice from inside Oscar's office.

Steve's eyes popped almost all the way open. "Jaime?" he hadn't seen her in more than a year, since her amnesia had torn them apart.

Jaime appeared in the doorway, far too chipper and put together for 3am. "If you' d have answered your phone an hour ago, you would've been able to get yourself down here, instead of needing the wake-up posse." She grinned at him, very amused, and handed him a mug of coffee.

Steve smiled back at her, his surly mood forgotten. "What - no donut?" he joked.

"Just get in here," she said lightly. Steve eyed her closely as they both sat down. _Just as beautiful and graceful as ever,_ he thought to himself, _and that body...!_

"You know why we're here?" he asked. Jaime shook her head.

"Well, I do," Oscar said as he strode to his desk and set several packs of cigars front and center. "Since Callahan informs me that some of us are a little grumpy, I'll get right to it." Jaime and Steve knew this had to be bad; not only had he brought cigars, he had multiple packs, a sign of extreme stress.

"Intel reports indicate a bioterrorism attack in approximately 72 hours. The virus is especially insidious; symptoms don't appear for five days but the victims are highly contagious, almost from the moment of exposure. There is no known antidote - no cure - and the virus is over 95 percent fatal."

"What do you need us to do?" Jaime asked.

Oscar eyed her with great caution. Jaime had been restricted to light duty since her release from Rudy's clinic, almost ten months earlier. This was huge - was she strong enough, physically and emotionally, to handle it?

"First, I want you both to be absolutely clear on one thing: either, or both, of you are free to turn this one down for any reason. Or for no reason at all. We do have a Plan B, so if you feel in any way uncomfortable with this, I want - I expect - you to say no."

"That's a first," Steve muttered.

Oscar spread a large map across his desk. "The attack will be carried out here," he said, pointing to a very tiny island southeast of Florida. "San Martine, a very exclusive, very expensive honeymoon resort."

Jaime did some quick calculations in her head. "Attacking honeymooners on Valentine's Day," she remarked, "Now that's cold."

There are four participants, each with a code and a key. Three of them are already in place on the island. the fourth, a scientist from Los Alamos, we have managed to intercept and detain.

"And you want me to be that scientist," Steve guessed.

"Wrong." Oscar turned to Jaime.

"Oscar, that is definitely not my strong suit! And from Los Alamos, no less," she protested.

"You'll fake it. We'll provide you with all necessary information. They don't know what this woman, Lauren Bradshaw, looks like, so infiltration won't be a problem."

"What's the catch?" Steve asked. "And where do I fit in?"

Oscar hesitated. "Well...like I said, this is a honeymoon resort. The only way to get you there without any questions is as newlyweds."

Steve and Jaime turned to look at each other, their eyes wide. "_Posing_ as newlyweds," Oscar clarified. "Didn't mean to scare you. But this is where it could get sticky. Our scientist is supposed to be on her honeymoon. They'll be watching for a tall blonde in her late 20's whom they know to be very...um...publicly affectionate toward her new husband."

"So you're saying I have to **kiss** him?" Jaime exclaimed with mock horror.

Steve smiled. I can think of worse assignments."

Oscar didn't return the smile. "I know that, given your past history together, this could prove to be a little uncomfortable. Or extremely uncomfortable. I won't be angry if you feel you can't -"

"We'll do it," Jaime told him. Steve nodded in agreement.

"Good. Your private plane leaves in 15 minutes. On board, you'll find two suitcases and a trunk with all the clothes and supplies you could possibly need, along with dossiers further detailing the mission, the terrorists' plans and the identities you'll be assuming. Good luck...and please be careful."

Bungalow - San Martine - 2/11 - 11:45am

"Steve...there's only one bed!" Jaime said, surveying the bungalow as she checked it for listening devices.

"How many do you need on a honeymoon?" he answered, grinning. "Seriously, though, let's sit and talk before we go out there." They sat together on the loveseat, both much more tense than they thought they'd be. "We have to make sure Tom and Lauren stay completely separate from Steve and Jaime - 100 percent."

"Right," Jaime agreed. "The second we open that door, it's them. When we're in here, it's us. And, Steve, we have to agree to be completely honest here. If it does get to be too much, for either of us -"

"Let's have a code word," he suggested. "Then, if it gets too intense for you -"

"Or for you."

"Right. Then we say the word and come back in here to regroup."

Jaime nodded. "It should be a word that we wouldn't use in normal conversation, but one that wouldn't sound abnormal if we did use it. How about...Disneyland?"

"You got it." He stood up and held out his hand. Jaime took it, and stopped for a moment to look in his eyes.

"Time to commit public foreplay," she said.

Steve held the door open, and they stepped out onto white sand that glittered like diamonds. they chose a bench close to the bright turquoise water. Steve put an arm around Jaime and pulled her very close.

"I love you, Tom," she said, quickly getting into character. "I can't believe we're finally here."

"Maybe this'll convince you." Steve placed a hand behind her head and pulled her forward, pressing his lips to hers. The first kiss was tentative, gauging her reaction. _Gotta make this look real,_ he reminded himself. He kissed her harder and felt her grow limp and compliant in his arms. The line between assignment and reality began to blur for both of them as their tongues began a languid game of hide-n-seek.

Steve leaned back to gaze into her eyes and was surprised to find that Jaime's breathing was as close to hyperventilation as his own. His bionic eye glimpsed something happening on a boat docked about six lots down from theirs. He ran his fingers through Jaime's hair so he'd still seem busy while his eye zeroed in for a closer look.

There were two men standing at the boat's railing, soon joined by a woman with binoculars, and all three were looking directly at them. Steve leaned toward Jaime as though nibbling her ear and whispered "I think we have our audience. You ok?"

She nodded almost imperceptively, and Steve couldn't resist running his lips along the curve of her neck and down toward her throat before meeting her lips again.

Bungalow - 2/11 - 3pm

"So," Jaime said when they were safely inside, "Think we pulled it off?"

"Ask me after I take a cold shower."

"Save some of that cold water for me, would ya?" Their eyes met, and they struggled to ignore the nearly visible spark between them.

Steve smiled, still not looking away. "I'll bet if we go back out after dinner, they'll be ready to take the bait."

Jaime couldn't look away either. "You just wanna put your tongue back down my throat..." she teased.

"Well, now that you mention it..."

**  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

San Martine Beach - 2/11 - 7:30pm

Instead of returning to the bench, Jaime and Steve stretched out together in the sand for their second attempt at grabbing the terrorists' attention. More erotic, more Tom-and-Lauren-ish, they thought, but also more difficult for the fragile psyches of two former lovers to file away into a neat little box marked "work".

They were both professionals: Steve, one of the best in his field, and Jaime, one of the OSI's most promising rising stars. In truth, though, both were rapidly becoming overwhelmed by feelings they'd never expected to have. Neither of them used the code word, though, because neither wanted it to end.

"Excuse me." They looked up; the woman from the boat was standing over them. "Are you Lauren Fox?"

"Depends," Jaime answered, rising to a seated position in the sand. "Who are you?"

"My name's not important. What is -"

"It **is** important, if you'd like to talk to me," Jaime interrupted with a superior tone to her voice.

The woman sighed loudly. "They told me you were difficult..."

"You don't know the half of it, Lady," Jaime told her. "Now, you can either tell me your name, followed immediately by what you want, or you can get lost."

"Sheila. Watkins. Look - are you Lauren Fox or not?"

"Used to be." Jaime reached over to caress Steve's shoulder. "I'm Lauren Bradshaw now."

"Whatever. I know you're looking to talk with us -"

"What I'm looking for, Miss Sheila Watkins, is to make enough money in one day that my new husband and I can retire and spend all of our time with each other. Can you help me with that?"

"Possibly," the woman answered. "My boss could make you rich enough for five or six retirements."

"Ok, I'm listening. But make it quick; we're...busy."

"See that boat over there? Meet us there tomorrow, 6am, and he'll be ready to do business."

"Fine. Tell your boss I'll be there. Now, if you'll excuse us, we **are** on our honeymoon." Jaime stretched out next to Steve again, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him passionately, seemingly oblivious as to whether Sheila was still there.

A few minutes went by, and Steve reluctantly sat up. "Nice job," he said.

Jaime's eyes gleamed playfully. "The conversation, or the kiss?"

"Both," he replied. Their eyes locked, and the spark felt more like a lightening bolt. "C'mon - let's go inside."

Bungalow - 2/11 - 8:50pm

"She was wired, you know," Jaime said when they sat down to re-hash the day. "I could hear the buzzing."

"I figured she might be." Steve's face was lined with worry. "I'd assumed you'd meet in their bungalow. I don't like this boat idea."

"I'll be fine."

"Jaime, once they have you on that boat, what's to stop them from taking off? Anything could happen. You don't have the experience to -"

"I can handle it."

"If something happened to you..." he said softly.

"Austin, I'd say that sounds like something other than professional concern."

Steve reached up and gently touched her face. "That's because it is."

"Steve -"

"I'm sorry. I know this is work -"

"Steve -"

"And we're supposed to keep our own feelings out of it, but I just can't."

"Steve! What I'm trying to tell you is that I can't either. Oscar would probably fire me on the spot, but something started waking up in me today, and it won't go away. I tried, but -"

Steve stopped her speech with a soft, tender kiss, much different from the ones on the beach. "Maybe we should tell Oscar to go with Plan B," he suggested.

"Kinda late now. It's all good to go."

"You know," he said, moving closer, "We have one other problem to deal with." Jaime looked at him questioningly. Steve smiled. "The bed...we only have one."

"It's an awfully big bed; plenty of room."

Steve shrugged. "I'll behave if you will."

"Don't want to, but I will," she sighed, and headed off to bed.

San Martine Beach - 2/12 - 5:50am

Jaime smiled at Steve. "Would you please relax? I 'll be fine. We'll have our meeting on the boat, and I'll be back before you know it."

Steve was so full of worry and emotion that he could barely speak. He took her firmly in his arms. "Please be careful, Sweetheart. If something doesn't feel right, just get the hell outta there." He continued to hold her for several beats too long, unwilling or unable to let her go. Jaime nuzzled in close, savoring the moment, before pulling away.

"I won't be long," she assured him, starting down the beach. She stopped and turned back to give him one more quick smile and to whisper something that gave Steve goosebumps: "I love you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Ok, I'm here as requested," Jaime called, standing on the dock next to the boat. "So where the hell are you?" She was more excited than nervous. This was her chance to prove herself, and she intended to do just that. The boat appeared vacant. She waited several minutes and was about to head up toward the bungalow.

"Welcome, Lauren!" A man with a cordial smile but sneaky eyes came up from below deck to meet her. "So good of you to join us! Come aboard, won't you?"

Jaime complied. "Are you the one I need to talk to?" she asked.

"Me? Naah. He's down below. C'mon - I'll take you." He stopped and turned to look back at her. "You have the key and the code, right? Boss'll wanna confirm that."

"Of course. Think I'm an amateur? Let's get this party going!" Jaime glanced around on her way below deck, and suddenly her blood ran ice-cold. Was that a missile launcher? On a recreational boat? It was on the side facing away from their bungalow, so she knew Steve hadn't been able to see it, and she had no way to let him know about it now. Still, she wasn't nervous; she was now officially scared witless. The inner voice that Steve and Oscar had told her an operative must learn to always listen to was screaming.

It was too late. They were already down the stairs, and a door Jaime hadn't seen slammed shut behind her with a heavy, metallic THUD, blocking any escape. Jaime struggled to remain calm and appear casual. Then she saw the man who was forcibly holding Sheila in front of an electronic control panel with a keyboard at the bottom and four keyholes across the top. Two of the keys were already in place.

"Plans had to be changed," Jaime's escort told her. "We've moved it all up to today. Right now, in fact." Jaime's every nerve cell went on high alert as she felt, under her feet, the boat beginning to move at a dangerously rapid clip.

"Good girl," the second man said to a crying Sheila. "Now the key." Sheila stood frozen. "Dammit - give me the key!" Jaime heard the _SNAP_ of Sheila's wrist bone as he forced the key from her hand and inserted it in its place. He roughly shoved Sheila away and she hit the back wall and slid to the floor. She didn't get up.

"Your turn now - Miss Sommers." A third man entered through a sliding door next to the panel. He held a gun aimed at Jaime's head. "Yes, I do know who you are. Been a tennis fan all my life. Goldman must be pretty desperate if he's recruiting athletes." He pushed her toward the panel with the barrel of the gun. "Now you're going to put those pretty little fingers on that keyboard and punch in our last code. Do it right - no tricks - because one wrong digit will cause an alarm to sound and I will shoot you right where you stand."

For a moment, Jaime considered doing exactly that. What was her life, weighed against the millions who would die if they launched their virus/missile? But she knew that even if they killed her, they'd still find a way to launch the deadly missile. She forced herself to stay calm and slowly began punching in the code.

"Very good," the gunman said when she'd finished. "And the key." Jaime didn't move. He jabbed the gun barrel roughly into her temple. "**NOW**!"

With her right arm extended like a battering ram, Jaime summoned all her strength, spun around, and, with precise aim, knocked the gunman sideways into his two buddies, sending all three sprawling to the floor like lined-up dominoes. Their heads and bodies slammed into the walls of the tiny room, and there was silence. She yanked the control panel from the wall and quickly used the thicker wires to bind and immobilize the three men.

Jaime picked up the gun and bent it like taffy into the shape of a pretzel. She stood over the gunman, who was returning to semi-consciousness, took the key from her pocket, and broke it into several tiny pieces with her fingers. She smiled ironically at him. "You forgot - athletes are extremely strong."

Suddenly, the boat engine stopped, and Jaime could hear heavy footsteps up on the deck, moving toward the stairs. Another one. Well, she'd just have to meet him head-on. She raised one foot and slammed it into the locked metal door. It flew right off its hinges and straight into the path of...

"Steve?"

He jumped out of the way of the large door-shaped projectile. he was soaking wet, head to toe. Although they were miles from shore, he'd obviously been swimming after the boat.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Jaime nodded. "Yeah. But you missed all the fun." She handed him the gun/pretzel. "Made you a souvenir."

Steve pulled her close and held on tightly. "Oscar tells me I'm the best, but it looks like I might have some serious competition."

San Martine Beach - 2/12 - 7pm

Jaime nestled contentedly against Steve's chest and sighed with happiness as his arms surrounded her. "When we go back to the States, is this all gonna disappear, like some kind of 'Island Magic'?" she asked.

"I know mine won't," he told her softly. "Oh - I've got a surprise for you. When you were done on the phone with Oscar, he told me this place is paid for through the 18th, and he thinks we should take a mini-vacation."

"Really?"

"And, so there's absolutely no suggestion of anything improper, he rented a second suite."

"A second suite..." she cocked her head to look up at him. "Are you gonna make me pack up and move out, Austin?"

"Only if you want to."

"Not especially; kill that second suite."

Steve smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that." He kissed her, his lips lingering on hers longer than the sun lingered on the horizon.

END


End file.
